


battle weary

by notveryglittery (tryingthymes)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Good Friend, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders-centric, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers, mentioned: character!thomas, mentioned: deceit sanders, mentioned: patton sanders, post-putting others first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24032038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryingthymes/pseuds/notveryglittery
Summary: he was supposed to have cried until he couldn’t anymore, put away all of his problems, and go about the next day like nothing had hurt him at all.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Prinxiety
Comments: 26
Kudos: 301





	battle weary

**Author's Note:**

> i _had_ planned roman-centric royality hurt/comfort but then blink made [this post](https://blinksinbewilderment.tumblr.com/post/617234394791411712/) and here we are!!

Roman’s head was so full of confusion and pain and swirling thoughts, he was sure he’d fall over from the dizziness of it. A dull ache was beginning to spread throughout his skull, reminding him of how hard he’d tried — of backtracking on insults and stumbling over opinions and attempting to fix what he’d broken. He could barely sift through what they had discussed. Selfishness was okay sometimes, Patton had sided with Deceit, they’d gone to the wedding for nothing. Roman had given up the callback, had ruined their chance at a breakout role, for _nothing._

Tears stung hot at the corners of his eyes. He wiped them away, frustration bubbling up his throat, threatening to spill out in sobs or… or screams or curses or something, he didn’t know, he didn’t know if he _wanted_ to know. Roman finally moved from where he stood, the spot he’d been rooted to since he sunk out, since Thomas lied about Roman being his hero, since Patton lied about loving him, since they both ignored Deceit manipulating and using and lying to them, to _him._ He barely made it up the stairs, each step feeling higher as he climbed, the intended destination of his safe and quiet room feeling harder and harder to reach.

He hadn’t even realized he’d passed Virgil’s door until it was opening and his voice was breaking through the fog Roman was losing himself in.

“Hey, Ro, c’mere.”

Alright then. Showtime, apparently.

Plastering on a smile and standing up straight, he squared his shoulders before turning to face Virgil. He looked tired but relaxed, purple plaid pajama pants on to match his hoodie. He must’ve been in the middle of a project because his hair was pushed back with a headband. Before Roman could ask what Virgil required of him, his hand was taken and he was pulled across the threshold. The room was considerably brighter than usual with the setting sun casting rays of light through the window, where the spider curtains had been tied back.

Virgil guided Roman to the bed, where he sat him down, before going to retrieve something from the closet.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your company,” Roman began, managing a genuine yet sarcastic tone, “but I am… quite spent from filming today. Will this take long?”

“Depends on how cooperative you are.” Virgil said, backing out of the closet and carrying something rather large, hidden under a blanket.

Cooperative. Hah. Roman allowed himself a bitter smile. He’d been cooperative all day and look where it had gotten him. “Very well,” he agreed, scooting over when Virgil sat down beside him.

Virgil handed the box over to Roman and removed its cover. The Disney princess wrapping paper had to have been from years ago, dug out of storage just for this. He glanced at Virgil, who looked like he might be shaking from nerves — it was hard to tell, though, whether they were the good or bad kind.

“What’s this?” Roman asked instead of opening it.

Virgil seemed confused by the question. “What’s it look like? It’s a gift. Duh?”

“I haven’t done anything to deserve it,” Roman said, frowning.

Virgil’s brows furrowed. “Well, not that you need to do anything to deserve a present every now and again, but… Okay, it’s for today’s episode. Is that a good enough reason?”

Roman’s grip on the box tightened a little. The sound of crinkling paper grated on his ears. That just made it worse. He’d blown up at Thomas and Patton, he’d laughed at Deceit’s name. Of course today’s episode wasn’t a good reason.

“I don’t think I can accept this.” Roman held the box out for Virgil to take back.

Virgil didn’t look annoyed or frustrated with Roman’s denial, which felt unfair. Everybody else was already mad at him, what was one more? Virgil took the present and set it on the floor before he pivoted, pulling his legs up onto the bed, and facing Roman.

“Alright. What happened today?”

“Nothing,” Roman answered immediately.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Let’s not invite anyone unwanted to my room, okay?”

Roman doubted Deceit was even paying attention to any lies in the Mindscape. He was probably too busy living it up, celebrating his acceptance, relishing in the glow of approval from Patton and Thomas.

“I led our chat to the trolley problem and sorta put the lives of Thomas’ friends in danger. Surprised you didn’t feel that one.” How could he have done something so stupid? Especially after they all knew Thomas didn’t take well to putting Joan in harm’s way.

Virgil folded his arms over his chest. “Locked myself in here and kept very busy to avoid it all.”

Roman wasn’t sure how Virgil could have possibly not noticed the trashing of the living room and Patton’s boss battle, but he wasn’t going to question it. “Deceit took Logan’s place, again. Did a better job of it this time.”

Virgil tensed.

“Said how the way he manipulated me in the courtroom was just a prank. Funny. Wholesome.” Roman couldn’t be sure if it was a miracle or a testament to how well an actor he was that kept his voice steady. “I suppose I shouldn’t put words in his mouth. He probably just didn’t realize what I was saying. Clearly, for Patton and Thomas to agree with him, he can’t be as bad as I’m making him out to be.”

“ _Roman,_ ” Virgil interrupted, tone edging with panic before he took a deep breath, which Roman unconsciously mirrored. “Back up. Hold on.”

Getting up from the bed, Virgil went shuffling through his drawers before pulling out his old jacket. It was folded neatly. “Outta the costume,” Virgil demanded, “we’re getting cozy.”

Too tired to argue, Roman freed himself of the constricting top and pulled the hoodie on over his undershirt. Virgil unceremoniously shoved a bunch of stuff onto the floor and settled at the head of the bed, with his back against the wall. He gestured for Roman to join him.

This was definitely on the list of things Roman didn’t deserve. … Still. The hoodie seemed to carry with it feelings of protection and determination and while he was sure he hadn’t earned being cozy, much less anyone to be cozy _with_ , he didn’t quite have the energy to disagree. Not anymore. So he sat himself beside Virgil and took to breathing deeply while Virgil started talking.

“If anyone is familiar with being tricked and lied to by that snake, it’s me. I fell for it. A lot. He was crueler, when we were young. If…” he paused. Roman felt him move but he didn’t look, in case Virgil wanted some privacy. “If he’s got Thomas…” He huffed. “Thomas _and_ Patton on his side…”

“We went to the wedding for nothing.”

“We went to the wedding to support Lee and Mary Lee.”

“Yeah, and Thomas was miserable and angry and regretful. Because of me.”

“Now, wait—”

“He lost his chance at fame because I sentenced him to the wedding. I gave up my dr— his… _our_ dream.” Roman swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. “In the act of selflessness. Because going to the callback was selfish and bad. I… I wanted to go to the callback. More than anything. Which makes _me_ selfish and bad. Which means I don’t deserve gifts or to be cozy or to have a seat at the table or—” 

Virgil’s arm shot up, looped around Roman’s neck, and yanked him down. The startled noise in response was muffled by the pillow he found his face shoved into. He adjusted, realizing that his head was resting now on a cushion on Virgil’s lap. Virgil sunk a hand into Roman’s hair and began combing his fingers through. He shifted so that his neck and back weren’t quite as uncomfortable in this new position but stayed put otherwise.

“I’m not trying to stop you from saying what you want or need to,” Virgil began, keeping his gaze at a spot on the far wall. “It’s just that you were magnifying. Princey, sometimes we’re told one thing for so long that anything that opposes it default becomes wrong. And then we find out that that isn’t true. It shakes everything else out of place.” He took a moment to brush the bangs out of Roman’s face. “It’s a lot to handle, much less if it’s coming from someone you trust.”

Virgil sighed and looked down at Roman. He smiled, only slightly. “I know it’s hard to be open about your feelings. You’re really good at hiding behind a mask.”

Roman bristled, denial on the tip of his tongue. “You would know.”

Virgil’s hand stilled as he grimaced.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said hurriedly. Panic raced through his veins. “That was out of line.”

Sighing, Virgil continued scratching gently at Roman’s scalp. “No, you’re right. It was a big secret to keep from Thomas for so long.”

“I guess… At least he’s had some time to think about it. Since all this happened and distracted him,” Roman offered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks.” He tugged a strand of Roman’s hair. “Back on track. You need to let us in, Ro. I’m guessing you had a lot to say when they pulled the rug out from under you?”

Roman hesitated, guilt squeezing painfully around his heart. He closed his eyes. “You could say that."

Virgil waited patiently.

"... He told us his name."

There was a long stretch of silence. So much so that Roman was afraid to even breathe.

"You laughed, didn't you?"

"I… yeah. And he. He compared me to…" Roman brought his arms up, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.

Virgil jolted, as if he were going to get up, but the weight of Roman's head on his lap stopped him. "He did _what?_ "

A part of Roman was flooded with relief at the anger in Virgil's tone. Another part of Roman broke into pieces at the reminder that Thomas and Patton hadn't even tried to stand up for him.

"He may have had a point."

"Absolutely the fuck he did _not._ " There was an electricity in the air now, as if Virgil's emotions were sparking off of him. "Sure, you laughing at an act of vulnerability isn't great. Comparing someone to everything they try not to be, that's… What the _fuck?!_ "

"It's okay," Roman tried to say but the words got stuck, his throat closing up around them, as tears leaked unbidden from his eyes despite his best efforts.

"Ah, no, listen—" Virgil nudged Roman's hands away and then lifted him back up, cradling him against his chest. "You can cry, Roman. That's alright."

 _It wasn't,_ he wanted to argue, but shielded here from the disapproval of those that mattered to him most, and the crushing weight of failure, and the terror of not even knowing what the point of his existence was anymore… Virgil's arms held him close and tight, safe from harm, even if just for a few minutes… His shoulders shook as he sobbed, though hardly a sound came out.

Roman wasn't sure how long he stayed like that for but by the time he pulled back from Virgil, the room was considerably darker and the sky outside the window was black.

"Better?" Virgil asked, handing him a box of tissues.

"I don't know," Roman responded, voice hoarse and tone defeated. He wiped his face dry. "I don't think so."

"Might have a couple more bottles to empty, then."

"Pass."

Virgil turned on the bedside lamp. Roman flinched at the artificial light.

"I think the next step here is talking to Patton."

"I don't want to," Roman whined, not unlike a petulant child that didn't want to speak to their parents after being grounded.

"I'm not going to make you," Virgil promised. "You need to decide what happens first. Breaking down those walls between right and wrong, good and bad, with Patton? Apologizing to Janus for reacting the way you did but expressing clearly to him the damage he caused from the way he's treated you in the past? Opening up and trusting Thomas with your insecurities?"

"Can't I just go back to debating healthy sleep schedules with Logan?"

"You know he'd agree with me and send you right back to making this decision."

"Could you…" Roman hesitated, fidgeting.

Again, Virgil waited patiently. Roman wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. For all intents and purposes, he was supposed to have gone back to his own room to wallow in his misery and confusion. He was supposed to have cried until he couldn’t anymore, put away all of his problems, and go about the next day like nothing had hurt him at all. Instead, Virgil had diverted his course completely, and now he wasn’t alone while trying to put himself back together. It was… relieving. And terrifying.

“Could you… be with me? When I talk to them?”

Virgil grinned. “I’m proud of you for asking. That couldn’t have been easy.”

Roman thought that sentiment alone might tip him over the edge again, but he managed somehow to not burst into tears anew.

“I can do that, yeah. I’ll hang out on the other side of the room with my headphones on but I won’t actually listen to any music. That way, if you need help, you can call for me, and I’ll hear you. Is that okay?”

Roman nodded, not sure that he could keep his voice even if he spoke.

“I know there’s still a lot to unpack. I’m not saying that _you_ are bad or wrong, but I think everyone involved in that conversation did and said some things that _were_ bad or wrong. Obviously, I wasn’t there, but I can imagine things got heated and that you weren’t the only one to leave feeling bitterly, jittery, and not very glittery.”

Roman cracked a smile. “Patton turned into a giant frog monster.”

“What?!” Virgil exclaimed with a rough laugh. “Okay, wait, let’s go to your room. We’re having a sleepover tonight and you’re going to tell me what the hell happened earlier.”

Roman lit up, looking genuinely happy. Virgil’s heart ached, realizing how long it’d been since he’d seen such real emotion on Roman’s face. “Can you get snacks? There’s edible cookie dough in the fridge.”

“Yeah sure but don’t expect me to encourage your sweet tooth again after this,” Virgil teased, getting out of bed and helping Roman up too.

Roman picked the box up off the floor, clutching it to his chest. “Can I still have this?”

“Duh,” Virgil answered. “Go get the pillow fort set up, I’ll be there ASAP.”

Virgil opened the door, checking that the hall was clear, before gesturing for Roman to step out first. Before they could part ways completely, he caught Roman by the shoulder.

“I’m… _really_ proud of you, Ro. You didn’t have to tell me anything. You’re willing to make amends. That’s pretty damn cool.”

Roman wanted to ignore the warmth blooming in his heart from such sincere praise but after everything else, it would have been hard to. He gave Virgil a tremulous smile. “I’m glad we’re friends. Thank you for looking out for me.”

A moment of silence followed and then they both took a step back from each other.

“Snacks. Edible cookie dough. Got it.”

“Pillow fort! I’ll even let you pick the first movie.”

Arriving in his room alone gave Roman a moment of pause. There was still… so much… that he had to fix. He took a deep breath. His time with Virgil, however, was a reminder that he wasn’t _truly_ alone and that with enough time, patience, and support… Things could… things _would_ get better.

**Author's Note:**

> [read on tumblr at notveryglittery!](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com/post/617331890838487040/battle-weary)


End file.
